Wolf Song
by IronManSaidPinata
Summary: When Clone Commander Wolffe sent himself to eliminate the remaining Jedi on Oro Plutonia under Order 66, he thought he was doing his friends a favor, however, when he finally comes face to face with his target, he realizes that he will have scars to haunt him for the rest of his days. But is his target really truly gone? Or is his mind destroying him for little to no reason?


A/N: Disclaimer: All characters (excepting the Pantoran Jedi), locations, species, and names belong to Lucasfilm and in turn, Disney.

Right, so there might be a couple other chapters to this...Let me know what you think.

Songs to listen to while reading this:

I Know I'm a Wolf - Young Heretics

Wolfsong - Denny Schniedemesser

Krone - Guilty Crown OST (this one is optional and applies to possible future chapters)

Commander Wolffe panted as he ran through the snowy forest of icicles and stalagmites. His single-eyed view of who he was chasing was blurry and fading as the freezing cold penetrated his armor and froze his innards. It had started as a routine mission to check on the Talz people of Oro Plutonias. Two Jedi proficient in the language of the natives had been sent along to aid in diplomacy as the Jedi in particular had good relationships with the Talz.

One of the Jedi, a young Pantoran girl, was a favorite among the Talz. She spoke the language as though it were her native tongue and played with the Talz children upon her every visit. She was also well-liked by her Master's squadron, including the Wolfpack. She was always ready to offer a happy smile, and her innocence often made his men laugh. Her belief was unlike that of any other Jedi he had met, though he chalked that up to her being young and semi-sheltered most of her life.

She believed that all clones were different, and saw them as sentient, human beings. For such a young child of only eleven years, she had remarkably complex ideals, and as a Jedi, a slight temper that flared when she felt that the way her Master dealt with the loss of the lives of clones was unfair. More than once, the young girl had brought his eyebrows up in amazement. Comet and Boost often watched after her when she was near, and he hoped that they were not feeding her temper against her master in such a way that could be detrimental to her future as a Jedi.

Yes, the girl was definitely beloved by the Wolfpack, and they had resolved to make her an honorary Wolf once she was old enough, though she already saw them as her beloved older brothers, calling them so in her native Pantoran tongue.

That made his mission all the more difficult.

Just ten hours prior, she had been sitting cross-legged out in the snow with one of the Talz children, making snowmen and playing while he looked on from the hanger doorway of the base. He watched as the blue-skinned child threw her head back and laughed at something the Talz said and replied. He smiled for a moment before he felt the familiar vibrating of his holo-com alerting him of an incoming message. He walked back inside the base and wiped the snow from his helmet before removing it and setting it down on a crate and taking up his holo-com, accepting the transmission.

"The Jedi have turned against us, Commander Wolffe, execute Order 66."

For a moment he hesitated, but then the words that the Chancellor was saying sank in and he nodded.

"It shall be done my lord."

Turning, he picked his helmet up and spoke into his wrist communicator and informed the others of what they had to do. Angrily, he strode towards the hanger door where his troops were gathering. The Jedi would pay for their crimes against the Republic. Together as one, his squadron and the platoon they had been sent with closed in on the Jedi, who remained unsuspecting of what was happening. However, just before they had come close enough to fire, the Jedi looked towards the padawan.

"I have felt a terrible disturbance in the Force; let us go inside young one."

The young girl nodded and bid her companion farewell before turning alongside her Master who immediately saw the Clones and their intent. She pushed the small girl behind her to protect her, drawing her lightsaber and activating the double emerald blade.

"Wolffe! Stand down! What are you doing?!"

He ordered his men to fire upon the traitorous Jedi; the full force of the platoon was strong enough to weaken her after a time, but not without heavy losses. Due to their stronger armor, the members of the Wolfpack and a few injured ones were the only ones to survive, leaving them to wear down the Jedi. In her dying breaths, she said to the young girl:

"R-u-n."

The child's purple eyes were filled with tears as they flicked from the corpse of her Master to the snow-blurred figures of those she thought of as her brothers. Not believing what had just transpired before her, she backed up a few shocked paces and then darted off into the blizzard.

Again Wolffe hesitated.

All Jedi were traitors.

They needed to be destroyed.

Who should he send out after her? Most of the platoon was down from their fight with the Jedi. That meant all those who would be able to deal with her objectively were either injured or dead. He couldn't trust pack members like Boost or Comet to take out the padawan since they would look for convincing loopholes as to why she should live. That left him to do the deed.

"I'll go. You stay here and take care of our brothers," he stated in a flat, even tone; trying to keep an argument at bay. It didn't work.

"You can't seriously think-"

"She's a Jedi, Boost. Our orders dictate that we kill **all** Jedi. And she is a Jedi."

"But she's just a kid!"

"Boost, she's a kid now, but she'll be an adult someday. And then will you think of her as a Jedi?"

His question had hit its mark as Boost fell silent.

"Don't wait up. This might take a while."

He started off in the direction of the child to hear his brother utter one single, mocking, phrase.

"Roger roger."

Wolffe clenched his chattering teeth at the memory but pressed on through the snow. He had caught sight of her on his infared scanner about an hour ago, and he could finally see the shape of the dark cloak she wore around her shoulders whipping around in the wind. He picked up the pace, his legs burning from pushing through the howling blizzard. It had been ten hours, but had felt like ten years, during which time he had contemplated his course of action.

To put it shortly, he was torn.

He wanted to be a good and loyal soldier, and he had come so far. Not to mention that not carrying out these orders was more than likely worthy of being labeled a traitor himself or getting court marshaled in a best-case scenario. But the girl was like a sister to him. A daughter never. And so he simply cared for her as she cared for him and his brothers. He didn't want to do this.

Not in the slightest.

But in the ten hours, he had hardened his resolve until it was solid as stone. The same Commander Wolffe he was renowned throughout the 104th squadron for being.

Then, all at once, the blizzard let up and stopped, sunlight shining through the grey clouds, displaying that summer had arrived. He looked around, noticing that the young Pantoran had run into a grove of gnarled grey trees. He continued the chase, the cold not nearly as biting without the storm.

The chase didn't last much longer.

Without the blizzard as cover and her ability to withstand the cold losing its advantage, she lost ground with her smaller, tired legs. He could feel the fear rolling off of her in her attempts to turn or hold him back by using the Force to tear frozen branches from the trees and flinging them at him.

He dodged them all easily, causing her even more fear as he drew close enough to hear her short gasps of panicked breath. Right about then, she stumbled in a snow drift and fell to the ground. He skidded to a stop about two meters away from her and towered over her with his blaster rifle at the leveled firmly at her. She looked at him, tears in her eyes streaming down her cheeks. It was not from the wind.

His mind wandered to the time when she had first encountered death. It had been Felucia when she had become friends with a Clone nicknamed Cutler. It was during one of the charges against the Separatists that the man had died. She had felt the loss and run to him, begging him to get up. It was Boost who had had to explain to her what death was, and she accepted it, but she mourned him, humming a soft song to prone body of the fallen soldier. Wolffe supposed it was then that she had drawn closer to the troops, trying to make friends with them all. He recalled the blue-skinned girl saying something like, "I want to get to know you all so that I can say that it is an honor to have met every one of you."

And now the same innocent and earnest purple eyes that had looked just the same when those words had been uttered stared up at him from where she sat on the cold ground. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face.

"I'm sorry Rylo."

The shot that rang out seemed to deafen him to the world, and the crunching sound of her body slumping into the snow was even louder. He dropped his rifle and sank to his knees in the wet white ground cover. He removed his helmet and set it down on the ground and got to his feet, stumbling numbly over to the body lying prone on the ground. He gathered the girl into his arms and held her close. His body was almost three times her size, and so he feared that he would crush all that was left of the girl.

She didn't deserve this.

She deserved to be alive and safe. She ought to be home on Coruscant, learning about the Jedi way of living. Not in the middle of a war. Not in the middle of all the destruction going on in the galaxy.

Not dead.

And it was his fault. He was the good soldier. He'd followed his orders. He had killed the Jedi. But he would pay for it. He would forever be haunted by those pleading violet eyes that begged him not to pull that trigger. The same ones that now stared blankly at the sky, no longer lively, but glassy. And he was glad he had closed his eyes in time to prevent himself from seeing the look of betrayal that certainly passed across her face.

As her facial features relaxed and her passing was assured, he reached up and brushed his hands across her lids, shutting her eyes. He brushed her dark hair away from her face and caught sight of the braid symbolizing her apprenticeship to her master. He looked down to her belt to see that the lightsaber she had constructed on Ilum just a few weeks before sticking up out of the snow. It occurred to him that, though she was not fully trained, she knew enough to at least do some harm to a Clone in battle. And yet, she hadn't even thought to use it on him.

Another wave of remorse and sadness swept over him as he unhooked the weapon and activated it, briefly considering ending himself with it before continuing with his original plan. With one swift stroke of the amethyst blade, he had sliced off her padawan braid. Deactivating and dropping the weapon, he reached down and grasped the lock of black hair with purple string tying it all together in his palm and clenched it in his fist.

Standing, he retrieved his helmet, but left behind the weapon that had saved his life many times but had just taken one that he would always regret. He turned his back on the spot, the patch of pink in the snow, and called the base, sending them his coordinates. They found him roughly an hour later, the cold corpse of their beloved "little sister" in his arms.

While it was forbidden for them to hold a funeral, they mourned anyway.

Wolffe might be a man, but he howled over the loss in his heart.

(As per usual, Read and Review to let me know how you liked it and if you have any improvements or suggestions.)


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